


[Translation] A Bad Excuse

by Daniellecluck



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 09:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19460779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniellecluck/pseuds/Daniellecluck
Summary: [One-Shot | Good Omens | Ineffable Husbands]"Angel, can I tempt you to a glass of wine?"A story where Crowley and Aziraphale chat whilst a little drunk.Translation ofUna Mala ExcusabyNathy





	[Translation] A Bad Excuse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nathy_Marisson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathy_Marisson/gifts).
  * A translation of [Una Mala Excusa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402099) by [Nathy_Marisson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathy_Marisson/pseuds/Nathy_Marisson). 



The moments Aziraphale enjoyed most were when he could enjoy a good book and immerse his mind in the wonderful stories that these authors told: when he didn’t have to give reports to the Archangel Gabriel or any of his other superiors, nor fulfil his miracle quota nor intervene in the evil plans of demons. Although if that demon were Crowley, it wasn’t very unpleasant at all. 

That thought made him look up from the book that he had been so comfortably reading. 

Had he really just thought that?

They’d known each other for 6000 years. It should be normal for Aziraphale to admit that he liked Crowley’s company. A soft smile adorned his face, remembering the times they’d met up and shared friendly words (well, as friendly as they could be for someone like Crowley), the cups of tea they’d drank together, the times they’d walked though parks together or met some people who now of days are part of the marvelous history of humanity. 

With his mind calmed, he went back to enjoying his reading in a moment of peace, where there was only him and the wonderful story that this author was telling.

Or so he’d believed. A pillow landed roughly in his face and caused his book to fall to the floor, thus losing his page.

Immediately, he looked in the direction where the blow had come from and toward the tall, dark figure of the demon Crowley. That same demon that had been on his mind only a few seconds ago. He stood with an ear-to-ear smile, twisted and satirical, steadying part of himself on one of the bookshelves. In his left hand he held a bottle that, at a glance, Aziraphale could see was wine. In the other hand, there were two empty glasses.

“Angel, can I tempt you to a glass of wine?”

The smile remained on his face, proud of his marksmanship. Aziraphale let his shoulders fall, and calmly picked up his book and the pillow.

“Crowley,” he muttered once he was in front of him, avoiding smiling at him at all costs.

“A glass and a conversation,” the demon insisted again, raising the wine bottle and signaling that it was of good stock.

“Okay, but don’t throw things at me,” he complained and followed him into the living room.

Aziraphale let himself smile gently. Crowley’s presence, some glasses of wine, and the rather entertaining chats that they had when they didn’t have to fulfil their duties as ethereal beings of heaven and hell were other favorite moments of his.  
  
In any case, the bookstore was closed. Nobody would interrupt them for the remainder of the day.

  
  


“There are other ways to get my attention,” Aziraphale complained, looking at his half empty wine glass and playing with the reddish liquid inside.

They’d already had several glasses, and it was the third bottle that Crowley’d had. Neither of them complained about the quantity. 

“This was the most fun way, Angel.”

Crowley’s smirk was accompanied by a loud laugh, it wasn’t the first time that Aziraphale had commented on that. Although, he didn’t know how many times that was anymore. It didn’t matter. It was fun drinking with him. 

The truth is that since the affair with the apocalypse had ended, Crowley didn’t have so many excuses to come and see him. He had to invent them with new things like ‘I need something about plants, surely there’s something amongst your books’ or a simple ‘I think I saw some demons prowling around here.’ Although that wasn’t the excuse he liked most; it made Aziraphale paranoid, and he wanted to spend time with him not scare him. 

“So, ducks,” Aziraphale continued with the conversation from before. 

“Exactly, ducks!” Crowley interrupted him. “Damn creatures, I know they’re plotting something.”

“They’re just ducks, Crowley.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow and shook his head. For him they weren’t just ducks. Those things were suspicious, always in the park, listening to his conversations.

  
  


The sun started to peep out between the buildings and slip in through the window. They’d been drinking all night and talking about ducks and who knows what else. Between which Aziraphale once more reminded Crowley not to throw stuff at him, and Crowley, once more, laughed.

There were no bottles of wine left anymore. Both of them had left their glasses in a corner and were now focused on looking at the thousands of books that Aziraphale had kept in his house: first editions, books half-cleaned, empty boxes of cookies, and the pleasant smell of herbal tea and old books. 

Crowley stifled a yawn. For centuries, he’d taken to the habit of sleeping at night even though he really didn’t need to at all, but he liked it. Right now he doesn’t know if it’s due to sleepiness or because of the copious amounts of alcohol, but he feels beat, as if he were able to sleep an entire century.

To his side, Aziraphale’s eyes were closed. He knows he’s not sleeping though. That’s not the angel’s face when he really does it; he knows that face all too well. He assumes that he’s just resting his eyes from the long night they’d passed talking about anything and everything. 

Although they didn’t arrive at any concrete point, they didn’t have to. It was only a chat amongst friends. 

“Angel,” Crowley murmured. The aforementioned angel fidgeted in his spot, not wanting to open his eyes. “My head’s spinning. Is that normal?”

“You should return the alcohol to its bottles,” Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked worriedly at what was in front of him. 

Crowley’s smile was extremely wide, and his yellow eyes looked at Aziraphale intensely.

“It was a joke. I already did it.”

Crowley received a groan on the angel’s part, who sat upright on the sofa.

“Don’t make jokes like that.”

“Were you worried?”

“Of course!”

Crowley laughed again, softly, he loved to bother the angel regardless of if he took the bait or not. He adores seeing how he worries for him even with things so small like a headache that’s easily curable for a demon.

A tiny demonic miracle and voila. 

Abruptly, Crowley felt the angel’s hand behind his ear. A shiver ran up his spine, and he looked to his side at once. 

“I miss your long hair,” whispered Aziraphale, all of a sudden.

Crowley got up from his chair with a jump. He felt his damned human heart racing a mile a minute, and his face felt far too warm. 

What the hell was wrong with him?

“Where did that come from, Angel?”

“I never knew why you cut it,” Aziraphale didn’t even bat an eye. Rather, he ignored the exaggerated reaction from his friend. 

“Times change…” Crowley tried everything possible to maintain his composure. He gave a long pause while walking through the living room, playing hard to get. Suddenly a doubt crossed his mind. “You don’t like my hair?”

Why was he so worried about that now? Was it really important to Crowley to know if the Angel liked his damn haircut?

Who was he kidding, of course it is.

“I like it,” Aziraphale smiled at him, so bloody angelical like always.

“So?” Crowley hissed.

“Your long hair as well.”

Crowley let a heavy sigh escape. He sat back down on the chair, this time much closer to Aziraphale. He let his body fall toward that side, placing his head over the angel’s legs.

Aziraphale startled. Confused, he lifted his arms, and his entire body tensed due to the presence of the demon that had invaded his personal space, just like his house tonight, and his thoughts almost every day for the last 6000 years. 

“I saw it in a magazine,” Crowley murmured, shamelessly making himself more comfortable in the angel’s lap.

“You do always dress with the times,” Aziraphale commented, trying to relax his muscles.

Crowley let a laugh escape that was silenced within seconds. Aziraphale’s hand had returned to his ear, this time caressing his short hair with care, delicately. The demon’s mind went blank, and he concentrated on how warm Aziraphale’s subtle, loving touch always felt. 

“This… Is this alright?” The angel asked, his hand stilled, he bit his lower lip and looked intently at the yellow eyes of the fallen angel. 

“We’re on our own side now, we decide that,” Crowley turned his head to look him directly in the eyes, with determination. “No one can come and tell us what’s bad or alright now.”

Both heaven and hell had tossed them aside. They didn’t know if they were going to pursue them again or if the showdown of heaven and hell versus humanity would be soon, but none of that mattered now. 

After everything, after all these centuries as friends, after stopping Armageddon together, nobody in the world nor heaven nor bloody hell could tell them what or how to spend eternity from now on out. 

“It’s okay, Aziraphale,” Crowley took the liberty of taking the angel’s hand between his own.

“Yes, it is now,” the angel squeezed the demon’s hand harder and smiled at him, already calmer than before.

The sun gathered in a corner of the living room window. The people and cars were already making noise in the city streets. Soon it would be time to open the bookshop of A.Z Fell.

But they stayed some minutes more like that. Looking into each other’s eyes and letting whatever happens happen, praying that God’s ineffable plan permits them to have more moments like this: where it’s just the two of them together and their own side.

**Author's Note:**

> Blessed be these two beings that've taken me out of the writers block I had. I'm so happy! Let's see how long it lasts.....
> 
> [TN: If there are any translation mistakes in here please lmk. My Spanish is far from perfect. Muchísimas gracias a Nathy por permitirme traducir esta historia! ]


End file.
